In The Water's Reflection
by Roma-Nana
Summary: Arthur watched over Alfred's life through that fountain. Through it he fell in love, though they were worlds apart. Now stained with sins against his world, will this broken angel find his place, or will Sins pull him to the fiery depths? AU. UsUk.
1. Prologue: Before The Storm

**Why Hello there~ Nana here, your Authoress for this here UsUk story~ Hohoho~ But don't be fooled. There will be more than UsUk going on...**

**Just a warning: **

**I try and make you guys hate me~**

**There's going to be other pairings and such, they may not be big in plot wise, but they will be there, and if things go better than planned, (and I don't lose enthusiasim) they will get their debut~ Hmm...**

**My updating policey is..attempting to put up something once a week, but that has been falling through. I think I'm gonna go with the "my story I'll get to it" route. It's better than having material sitting in my computer and such but never putting it out there and getting myself known because I can't continue it.**

**Anyway, enjoy the sort-of-long prologue! If you are confused on what human names refer to what country simply ask me and I'll tell you so there is no confusion~**

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><p><em>"And for all those lesser than us below,<em>

_We lend our hands to pray for their time..."_

The blonde angel rubbed his eyes as the gathering continued in their own ways of meditation and hopeful thoughts. They were praying for those below them in the worlds: those who were less fortunate, the sinners, the mortals, the savages, all the usual intentions.

"Go my brothers and sisters. We'll meet again next sun rise for our training." The angel at the head of the altar at the front said to them all. He had short chocolate ringlets of hair adorning his head, and calm green eyes. He was one of the Archangels, his name was Toris. Though he was more like typical angels, he was still higher up in this apparent society, on a council with others like himself and with Father.

Arthur got up and headed out of the area to roam the paths to different places in this plane of existence. Though it was very peaceful some angels still had places to go, people to see, things to do. Though it was all at your own will to. Arthur however, didn't have much to do. His schedule was blank; he had already practiced his sword fighting for the day as part of his hours for the regiment he was in, and he felt listless as he wandered around.

This place was what humanity might picture as Heaven. The land of the holy, the land of God and Jesus, or perhaps Allah, maybe this was Nirvana? No matter what it was called, it was the land of eternal peace that many in the mortal world that believed in something after their time there would end up in. This was what they were thinking of when they imagined an afterlife: The place not exactly in time as they were on Earth, The place that had been since the very beginning of anything beyond everyone's creator. It was forever full of white clouds and pleasant pure sights the inhabitances were all too familiar with, and the surroundings so full of safety that everyone wanted at some point. Peace always radiated off of everything like the warm pleasant light rays from the sun; the perfect world.

In a way this was Heaven. In other ways, it was not. They were not peaceful in the humans' sense. They had wars and they fought, but they fought for justice against the beings of Hell. The forces that battled against the evil in Heaven were a great order, comprised of highly trained angels skilled in many styles of fighting, armed or not. Arthur was good in his assigned regiment, though not the best out of the Order. The best of the best were on the Grand Council; Arthur was generally close, but nowhere near as powerful as the Archangels were.

Beyond their strong training, other things were different than what people imagined. Time was strange in this place. The residence did not age, and they did not change much in appearance from when they first came to be. They were however not just spiritual. they could get hurt, they could be wounded, and in their own world they could be touched, but beyond that they were what humans would think angels were: human-like, sporting elegant wings from their backs, and always full of the purest intentions. They were faithful to their creator, but they did not live in the same plane as The Creator did. They still lived in a society with rules and regulations. However they were mainly a formality, none of the angels had the tendency for sin. They did not commit it, and as far as anyone remembered, it did not happen. Ever.

Arthur, the before mentioned blonde angel with eyes of a sparkling emerald green, headed down one of the various paths from the gathering grounds. Today's session had ended and now they all went their own ways, doing whatever they were to do. He had no prior engagements, so he was simply wandering around in thought.

He continued to walk around until he found himself at another common area. There was no one around, and the various fountains were all free. This particular common he had stopped in had its own special services. It had many elegant stone water fountains, that when you looked into the clears water you could gaze down onto the Earth below. You could watch the humans and their everyday lives. Be it a broad view of the world, or focus on one certain person, you could do either.

Arthur, being as idle as he was at the moment, found himself in the common and decided to look down at what was going happening down on Earth. He knelt by the edged of the fountain and peered down at the water. It started to focus in on the world, on some random occasion. He saw a group of friends conversing at some cafe. He shifted the focus of the water again. Now he was looking at a middle school class room. The image shifted again.

He looked about from place to place without too much interest. Some things he saw were horrible and unfortunate, some just part of everyday life. Sometimes he would catch a person who just seemed to be up on their luck that day. He felt happy for them.

He shifted the image reflected before him again, and was brought face to face with an over view of a hospital room. It was a very simple room for a hospital: heart monitor, IV dripper, and the usual things. The patient occupying the room was a blonde woman, who was probably in her mid-thirties. Her husband, a man with short dirty-blonde hair, was by her bedside, holding her hand supportively. The doctor and nurses were rushed into the room at the woman's cry of pain. They worked steadily, aiding the woman to get through her stress and push. Arthur didn't know why the woman had to push, or what 'pain' or 'stress' she was under at the time, but after a few minutes of watching he found out what he was seeing. Arthur was watching as a miracle of nature on Earth present itself before him. A life was being brought into its world, freed from its mother's loving womb, a beginning of a precious life.

Arthur witnessed a birth.

He had heard about birth, it was how mortal beings were brought into their world. However he had never seen one before. He had never witnessed one. He had no idea how special it was until now. The small shriveled baby was carefully disconnected from his mother and taken to be cleaned off in another room. Arthur watched the couple, the woman and the man, comfort each other and the husband helped calm his wife. Arthur wondered how those two had met, what their history was; how this new born baby boy came to be.

The little baby was brought back to his parents after about ten minutes, wrapped in a light blue blanket. He was born with a slight head of hair already. It was a golden blonde, like the setting sun, and though it could have been because he had just been born, a small section of hair was flipped up in an odd, but adorable manner. Arthur smiled as he saw it bounce when the small child raised his chubby arms to his mother. He giggled when she offered her finger for him to grab. She turned to her husband and smiled.

_"What do you think we should name him, Honey?"_

The man thought for a moment. Arthur was sitting on edge for the answer. He felt oddly as part of this as the two of them. It was a strange feeling, looking upon the baby boy, though he had no idea he existed, and probably never would. The father finally seemed to get an idea.

_"What about, Alfred?"_

Arthur and the man's wife seemed to smile at the same time.

_"That sounds like the perfect name for him."_ She turned back down at her already bright eyed son. _"Alfred F. Jones...How does that sound little man?"_ She asked him. He giggled in response.

_'Alfred...'_

After first witnessing the start of the human, of Alfred F Jones's life, Arthur went back to the fountain every so often after prayer and training. He would search around a little bit, but always made a point to check on Alfred and how he was doing. The first time after he saw Alfred being born he saw his mother being discharged from the hospital, though it wasn't from Alfred's birth, it was from his younger brother's, Matthew. Alfred's father (who Arthur later learned was named George), His mother (Abigail), his aunt, Matthew, and Alfred (who was now about 11 or so months old) left the hospital together to go back home. He continued to watch the family for some time before he noticed the odd change.

_'I guess time really does go by differently between our two worlds.'_ He concluded. _'I hope between each day I don't miss much. I like to watch this family for some reason...'_ What was this sensation? Arthur had never experienced it before. Was it a new feeling? Of what kind? It felt nice. It made him smile in a warm way. He hadn't done that much before.

He eventually left the fountain that day, but after the realization of this fondness, he made it a point to come back to the fountains each and every sun set after their gathering had ended, and even any other time he was available. He had come to memorize the way to the distant commons where he would sit and watch Alfred. He would watch him grow bigger as the visits accumulated. Every time Arthur saw him he seemed to grow, but he was still a child; a free happy child.

Until something snapped with his parents.

"Stop!"

The blonde shot his rifle in the air signaling the two combaters to discontinue their fighting. Arthur pulled himself away from his sparring partner Tino, a shorter angel like himself, with light blonde hair and innocent appearance. Beyond his appearance, Tino was one hell of a fighter, he was almost admitted to the Council, but Emil quickly snatched the chance from him before it was brought to light.

Vash, another Archangel, a stern more serious blonde, turned to the two of them. "Good job, you're dismissed, keep up your sword practices and targeting, we may have to be dispatched for another crusade soon. The council was hoping for us to gain ground against the demons.

Tino nodded to their superior and walked over to the changing area with Arthur. Arthur gave him a hindered smile as he began to get out of his armor.

"You go right for the kill in fighting, don't you?" He asked the caramel-eyed man. Tino gave a slight laugh.

"Really? I-I never really noticed. Sorry." He seemed worried that he had really hurt his friend, but Arthur dismissed it, saying he was fine. A small stab wound wouldn't do much to hinder him.

"You seem more ambitious when you fight as of late Arthur." He turned to face his friend who was walking out the door. "It's almost as if you're enjoying it more."

"I guess...so." Arthur didn't understand what he had meant by such a statement, but he decided not to push the issue. He gave Tino a polite goodbye and left.

Afterward Arthur had wandered to the fountain like he had been. He gazed down onto the water and looked for Alfred right away. He came to find him standing in the entrance of the hallway to the living room of his home. His brother was still in his bedroom; sound asleep in the back of the house. Alfred seemed to be about 6 or 7 years old at the time. His parents Abigail and George were at a standoff; both glaring at each other. Abby's face was red with frustration. Or at least that's what Arthur identified it as; he only had expressions to go off of. He wasn't really there in the moment.

George was more annoyed than frustrated. He was ready to just leave the room, or perhaps leave the house just so he wouldn't have to deal with his wife's anger.

_"You __**what**__?"_

_"I'm sick of you always fucking yelling at me."_ George admitted. _"It's always, do this, do that, no do it like this; I'm doing my best damn it! Maybe if you got a damn __**job**__ then things would be easier!"_

_"A __**job**__? Yeah, because what you do is __**work.**__ If you haven't realized, I can't get a job because I have to look after Alfred and Matthew, something that you haven't been doing at all lately!"_ She retorted. They continued to shout at each other, not even bothering with their child's presence. The young boy watched with a horrified look on his face (Like Arthur was). They kept exchanging shouts even as Alfred bolted down the hall and to his small room on the right, opposite from his brother's.

Arthur watched over him as he crawled into bed, tears streaming from his now slightly red eyes. It made the angel sad to see Alfred this way; so vulnerable; so upset.

_"M-Mom and D-Dad...They're gonna...leave..."_ he sniffled to himself. He hugged his legs to his chest for some form of comfort.

_'Alfred...I'm so sorry.' _Arthur thought as if he were talking to the boy. _'Don't be upset. I'll watch out for you, Okay? Things will get better.'_

The boy kept on sniffling with his face buried in his knees. Arthur wished he could hear him. He wanted Alfred to know that even if his parents went their separate ways he would still watch over him. He wouldn't be alone. A sudden tune came to mind. Arthur started to sing it softly as he watched over Alfred's small form.

_"Take a Melody, simple as can be. _

_Give it some words and, sweet harmony._

_Raise, your, voices~ All day long now, love grows strong now._

_Sing a Melody of Love. Oh~ Love."_

_"Hm?"_ Alfred lifted his face from his now wet pajama pants to look around his room. _"W-What was that...it sounded like singing..."_

"Did he hear me?" Arthur asked himself. Alfred seemed to not have heard that question; simply the little song Arthur had recited. Perhaps his feelings as an angel were able to connect to Alfred by way of his song. Arthur never knew the full extent of his powers as an angel, he had always been told not to interfere with other matters, so he had no precedent to go off of. He was strong in a bodily and magical sense, in mind as well, but spiritual he was unaware of how much influence he could conjure. Other angels here were quite skilled in such fields, and he also used magic when he fought, but across worlds he didn't know what he could do. Even thought he didn't understand how he was glad it happened; his little song seemed to have calmed Alfred down. He continued to repeat the small little song for him hoping that if he could still hear it he would know that everything would be alright.

Before long Alfred was fast asleep, and Arthur left the fountain for the day.

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><p>After that visit Arthur began to spend more and more time at the fountain. He was unable to go every day, battles between the worlds had started up again, so sometimes he was pulled out for long stretches of time to fight, but generally he made a point to go whenever he was able. Alfred had aged more in-between visits. He was 16 now. His mother and father had separated about 7 years ago, and Alfred was now living with his mother. His father had moved to Canada with Matthew and their aunt, but he made sure to keep in close contact with his brother Mattie constantly. Mattie swore when they both graduated from high school he would go to college in the States to be closer to his brother. Alfred always looked forward to when he would be living closer to Mattie again. Their parents had been sort of cold around each other personally, and it made it a bit difficult to go and visit one another, especially with the distance and living in different countries.<p>

Alfred was a pretty independent young man: he could drive, he had his own car, and he even had a job which paid pretty well for his age. His mother had gotten remarried to a generally wealthy business man from New York when Alfred was 14, and though he was far from a father, he provided for the boy. Arthur seemed happy that he was at least being treated well by him, and that his situation was good.

This time when he was watching over Alfred, he was at school talking with a few of his friends. One was a Spaniard named Antonio, another a short Japanese boy named Kiku, and one was a blonde by the name of Mathias, who seemed to be of Danish decent. They were getting ready for the final bell as they talked light heartedly.

_"Yo, Kiku! You'll help me with that math, right?"_ Alfred asked. Kiku looked up from his papers.

_"Again? I thought I explained it well the last time."_

_"B-But, it's hardddd!"_ Alfred whined. Arthur sighed. Although he found Alfred endearing, there were flaws. He tended to act a bit immature for his age but it wasn't like the angel minded. It made him all the more interesting.

_"Alright Alright. I will help you after school."_ The dark haired boy turned to the brunette and began to talk to him for a bit with the Dane butting in here and there, while Alfred turned quiet. He seemed to be thinking about something. He would occasionally look around and over his shoulder, like something was getting to him. His friends seemed to notice and turned to him with questioning looks.

_"Hey, guys...Don't you ever get that feeling that someone's watching you?"_ He sounded serious. They all shook their heads. _"Really? I feel like someone's looking down on me sometimes. It's a little odd."_

_'Odd? It's...odd?'_ Arthur felt hurt by the comment. Was it wrong to be looking down on Alfred's life all the time? He loved to watch Alfred. Sure, at times his behavior was annoying, but it was never directed at him, so he simply saw the patterns in which the teen worked. He had come to know him very well, almost as much as any of his family members would. He probably remembered things Alfred himself wouldn't. Was that wrong?

He never did consider how this would affect things, if at all. Had they affected anything? He could only think of himself when that question rang through his mind. Ever since first laying eyes on the boy he had felt different, new, odd; something. Whatever it was he knew he would never have been otherwise. But he began to think. Was this good, or bad? Most of his thoughts were of Alfred and his life. Was he becoming...obsessed? N-No! No way, not obsessed; s-something else. What was it?

_"Does it bother you? I wonder why you feel paranoid. It's strange, mi amigo."_ Antonio commented, leaning back in his desk chair. Alfred shook his head.

_"No, not really bothering me. It's kind of comforting actually. I remember feeling it just at random times. Don't know why, but it's like someone who loves me is watching out for me."_ He grinned. _"Sounds stupid I know. Haha."_

Love? Was that what this was? Love...

Arthur didn't know what love was. Yes, he was an angel, they were generally pure and peaceful beings, but their emotions were different than those of humans. They had different standards. To love...was it the feeling that made him want to hold Alfred? Hug him, talk to him, protect him, watch him...k-kiss him? It made him tingly inside as of late when he watched him. He had grown up to be very handsome, and his blue eyes always held the same hints of happiness and curiosity as it had when he was a child. His infamous cowlick still flopped about his golden locks, always standing out and making itself known. It was one thing out of many that made Alfred all the more endearing.

Perhaps he did love Alfred.

However that could be a terrible, terrible thing. Loving a mortal would obviously not be good for an angel. Was it even possible? It was happening, so it must be. He remembered hearing from one of the sermons Toris gave a few days prior about love. Love was not to be harbored. Mortals loved mortals, Angels loved other angels mutually. There was no in-between. Loving a human was forbidden. Especially in such a way as this.

When had this happened? When did his caring for Alfred become so intense?

_'I need to get away'_. He decided. He needed to distance himself from Alfred. He needed to sort things out. He quickly left the fountain that day, and that was day Alfred felt the protective feeling drift away for years.

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><p>The next time Arthur went to the fountain was by chance. They had just fought and won a great track of advances on the demons of Hell, and he was granted time away from the front lines. After praying and conversing with a few others, Tino and Toris, to name a few, he had wandered off by himself again. He was too lost in thought about his feelings, about Alfred. He had finally decided that he would consider his feelings for Alfred those of love. He had nothing else to call them, and for some reason the name felt right. It was surprising really, to find himself in love. He never would have thought something this different would overcome him. He also decided that it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but he knew it was against the laws here. He should feel guilty - in a way he did - but he couldn't bring himself to suppress these feelings now. They were there, and that was that, as unfortunate as it was for him.<p>

He wandered blankly over to the fountain and looked down at the familiar water's surface. The view of Alfred walking down the side walk came up immediately, like he didn't even need to shift through other events to find him. The fountain already knew what he wanted to see, even though he hadn't visited in a long time.

Alfred seemed to age even more since the last time he had watched. He was definitely not in high school anymore. Perhaps a few years older than last time, but his youth was still radiating from his image across the water's surface. Arthur smiled as a warm feeling nestled in the pit of his stomach. Alfred seemed to be heading somewhere, to where Arthur was curious. He gazed down the street Alfred was walking down, and soon found two men in black barge into a bank. They had black ski masks on and were armed with guns.

_'Is this a bank heist?'_

It indeed was, as they started threatening the teller and aiming their guns at innocent bystanders. The warm pit in his stomach suddenly started to burn, a horrible feeling of fear twisted his stomach. He knew this is where Alfred was headed. If he got there he was going to get shot. It was so obvious. Alfred was going to die. Arthur was used to pain and wounds, occasional death in battles, but this was Alfred. Everything was different this time.

_'No...He's still so young. He can't...I...'_

Arthur was distraught as he gazed back at Alfred unsuspectingly walking down the sidewalk to his impending doom. He couldn't let him die. Not yet. He still had so much to live for, he couldn't. Arthur wouldn't allow it!

_'Alfred! Stop! For all that's good in the damn universe stop you bloody git!' _He didn't seem to stop at all, though his expression seemed to change to one of confusion. Arthur frowned. He started talking into the fountain.

"Git! Stop walking to the bank. If you do you'll get shot and die! You can't die yet!"

Alfred seemed to jump in his shoes. He looked around, suddenly panicking. _"W-Who? What the hell...Am I hearing things?"_

"Run away from the bank, you dolt! You can hear me can't you?"

_"Run away?...Why?"_

"Just do it-"

At that moment the two men dressed in black made a mad dash down the street Alfred was on. Arthur panicked as he watched the distance between them close. Alfred gaped at the two as they ran by, shoving him into the brick wall behind him and running to their getaway car with the money. Alfred heard the sounds of sirens and a gunshot or two before seeing the car speed off.

He was in a cold sweat, sitting there on the ground. _'That voice...it was right! How? I was just...Hearing things, right? Right?' _He managed to get back up, much to Arthur's relief. He was alive. Alfred was okay.

The same couldn't be said for him as he was dragged away from the fountain.

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><p><strong>Weeelll~ What do you think? You like? I have other material built up so if you want a quick update..I can't believe I'll go this low...If you want another update later today give me...10 reviews? Is that too much? Eh whatever, I might not even go by this and just put one up anyway, but I'd like to see 10 it'd make me happy~<strong>


	2. Forever Drowning

**It's chapter two Mo Fos~ How you been holding up?**

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**AFTER You read this first chapter. ;)**

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><p>"Arthur. Angel of Britannia."<p>

The voice resounded, ringing into his ears; calling his attention. He raised his head solemnly to meet the angel before him.

"Do you know why you are here before us?" Vash asked coldly.

"Yes."

"Your offence is clear to you?"

"It is."

To think only a while ago he had been looking through the water at Alfred's relieved face. He had just saved him from certain death. But now, only moments after he had been brought here, dragged by the others to court with them already knowing he had committed sin. He wished he was among the other residence of this peaceful realm above the other worlds that was supposedly the epitome of holy and sacred. He wished he was not the one standing in this lone spot, the center of attention. He prayed for nothing more that to be part of the on-looking eyes of his brethren, the eyes of untouched inner peace, the ones not being subject to the questioning and judgment of their superiors.

He had wandered off in the paradise that was his world and home, and wandering only brought him this fate. Toris had told him once that he should make sure of where he went, if he was careless only bad things would happen. Arthur never believed him; it was too peaceful; he was too at peace. Now that bad fate had befallen him, he realized he was right. The aspect of this place as a whole was something that every single inhabitant of it cherished more than almost anything; himself included. He truly loved this place and he loved his innocent existence. Although not as much as he loved Alfred. He didn't think he could have ended up this way in a place so pure.

He didn't plan to. Honest, he didn't.

But he couldn't help himself.

He just couldn't.

"Do you care to explain how this came about?" Archangel Emil asked. The Grand Council who was trying him at the moment was made up of the 7 Archangels, the higher up authority in this world and 'Father'. 'Father', or Romulus(though few referred to him as such) who was the head of the council and the lead over them all, was said to be the one The Creator worked through to create them all. Mother was also a big part in the society, but she did not attend such unfortunate things as this. Arthur as of late had begun to doubt such an ideal that their Creator worked through Father. But either way, the high-ranking angles' prestige and stature intimidated Arthur greatly. Though there were many other factors that could also be contributing to that feeling.

Arthur hesitated, if only for a moment before giving his answer. However that moment probably just ruined any chance for redemption. The Creator would most likely be merciful, but even though they were supposed to be holy creatures, his fellow angels held no mercy for him. It was a difference between humans and angels. Humans felt as they wished, angels had different standards, and Arthur failed to hold himself to them.

He shifted his gaze to those around him, his brothers endowed in white like himself. Bright glistening wings protruding elegantly from their shoulder blades, also like himself. Every angel's pride and joy was their wings. His own twitched in their folded position, as if to say they were as uncomfortable in this spot as he was. He then brought his eyes to the white clouds below their feet; he didn't want to look into the accusing gazes he was getting. He began to speak.

"I went to the fountain far that ways from where we are now, where we can gaze down to the Earth. I'm not sure why I decided to, perhaps I wanted to see what was going on down on Earth. I didn't have much else to do at that moment. I gazed on the happenings of a few, without much interest. They were just typical people, living their lives, going about their evenings."

"And then what did you do?"

"I fixed my eyes on the birth of a human boy."

"Why?"

Arthur began to wonder why he was being asked these questions when the council already knew all of the answers. Perhaps it was to make him uneasy, but that didn't seem likely, maybe for a reminder to the others? Maybe; they were scrutinizing him with unfound curiosity, an anomaly that shouldn't have happened; though the Archangels weren't much better in judgment.

"H-He interested me. I watched him for a while." A lie. He watched for a long time; as much as possible.

"What did you do after that?" More vague questions; they needn't be asked, but the accused blonde replied anyway.

"I...I went back every so often to watch him after that." Arthur kept his eyes trained on the ground; Vash's feet were suddenly quite interesting. Everything he was saying was a huge understatement. Arthur went back to the fountain every day, multiple times in fact. He watched Alfred as much as possible, taking in every detail and learning as much about him as the times went by. Whether he was just out for a walk or off doing something far more important, Arthur would watch from above.

"And then something happened to the young man. Did it not?"

"Yes. He was about to walk into a bank that was currently being robbed, as humans would put it, at gun-point." He said. The blonde was innocent to the whole situation. He didn't believe anything involving Alfred being killed was meant to happen. Not everything was pre-set, right? Even he himself was unsure of that.

"And then you sinned, did you not?"

"I did." He admitted. "I intervened and stopped him before the event." How he had managed to get Alfred to hear him at that time, he had no clue. Just like when Alfred could hear him singing to him when he was just a child. He didn't know he could have that much connection with him, even when they were supposedly worlds apart. He felt sick to his stomach knowing that if he hadn't done something he would be dead. He would almost wretch at the thought.

"Though it is a cruel way to go, the boy was to die was he not?" Arthur had a hard time answering this. He didn't want to admit that yes, he was meant to die. He was meant to die and come to the afterlife he had chosen through his life experience. But for some reason, Arthur couldn't stand to see him come so early. At the most he was 19 years old, not nearly old enough to be ready to die. He wanted Alfred to stay on Earth longer, fulfill his dreams. Because Arthur knew, there was no room for those kinds of things here.

"Yes." He said still averting his gaze slightly. However Vash did no such thing and trained his vision right on him, as did others; like Emil and Lukas.

"Yet you stopped this. You have disrupted the works of the worlds. Angels are not to intervene when it is someone's time."

"I know, I-"

"Quiet, sinner. You saved him because you harbored feelings. Feelings you are forbidden to have." Arthur closed his eyes and breathed in; the presence of the archangels' gazes was weighing on him immensely. The resentment in Vash's voice was more than Arthur could endure.

He had never meant to harbor feelings for a human. It just happened. Perhaps it was his fault, perhaps it wasn't. He didn't mean any disruption in the ways things worked. He didn't mean to get into a situation like this.

He just wanted to see that bright smile he had fallen in love with.

_"I'm sorry Arthur but this cannot go unpunished. I have two more questions for you." _The blonde angel lifted his head at the voice of Father. He was surprised he hadn't said anything until now.

_"Do you know what they mean, Arthur? These feelings you have."_

He pondered for a moment. These feelings of love. Were they love? Yes, probably. Maybe, he didn't know. He had just given them the name that fit best to him. Love. But even if they were this 'love', as he had deemed them. What did that mean?

"No Father, I do not."

_"Then that is once more something you must learn. You have fallen to sin, so now you must pay these prices." _He paused for another moment before continuing on to his last question for his lost son.

_"Do you regret what you've done?"_

_..._

The tension around him got thick, as if this supposed concept of 'time' which wasn't really existent here had stopped. Was he sorry? The young man he had found so endearing would have died if he hadn't stopped him with what little known connection he had. He was given the gift called life. Who's right was it to take it away from him? Perhaps it was Father's, but Arthur doubted that.

Another sin.

They kept piling up. It was only now that he realized how tainted he had become. He had just doubted those who created his existence! Gave him reason! And here he was disagreeing; he was forming his own beliefs on how things should be done. He was not like his brothers, he wasn't perfect anymore. Perhaps he wasn't perfect in the first place. He was filthy, riddled with sin and lies. He had been withholding the whole truth from them all to be completely honest. The boy wasn't simply interesting to him; he had come to love the simple knowledge that he had something precious to him. Even though Alfred would never even know who he was, where he was, or what he was. He would love him anyway.

"..."

_"I see. With your departure I shall say I'm sorry."_ A pause. _"All of you may leave. I don't want you to witness this."_

As all his siblings turned their backs to him, he felt all impending doom fall upon him like a giant weight. What was to happen to him? Yes, he had fallen to sin, but what did that forebode? Was he to die? To cease to exist? He very much liked existing. Perhaps he was going to Hell; To the Devil, the ruler of his kind. The lord of the fallen, although he wasn't quite sure what being one of the fallen angels meant.

Father rose from his spot and headed over to a mantle off to the side of the room. The Archangels all gathered around Arthur as Vash and Lukas clasped iron cuffs around his slender wrists. They began to pull him out of the room by the chains linking the two cuffs, and brought him to a commons where there was one large puddle of clear water to gaze into. It was sky blue, and a tranquil surface with no disruptions. It was almost as if it was a hole down into the sky.

Father came soon after they had positioned Arthur at the edge. He handed the large silver saber he had gotten to Vash, who sized it up before coming over to Arthur, who was still facing the wide spread puddle.

Arthur could not see what he was doing, and didn't have a very good idea of what, but he didn't have to wait very long to find out.

Before he knew what had happened the blade struck directly into his joints. The appendages that connected his wings and shoulder blades were being hacked and sliced mercilessly. He bit his lower lip, trying not to scream. But this feeling, it was the most horrible feeling he had ever experienced. He had felt pain before sure, but not like this. He couldn't keep his agony silenced for long, and let his voice go free, screaming with each reverberation of pain in his senses. Burning cold metal continued to slice down into his shoulder blades, breaking into thin bones and slicing at his skin. His body writhed, and his wrists became chaffed as he struggled in his restraints. He dropped to his knees under the pressure of what he could only identify as punishment he deserved.

A sound escaped from his lips, one stagnated and cut off. Cut along with his wings, his means of identifying as an angel. It was as if freedom and mercy had left him, disconnected. It was so excruciating he could no longer speak. He couldn't scream, or groan. Nothing. His mouth laid slightly a gape as the blade finished its job, and his feathered limbs fell to the ground.

He smelled copper. His back felt damp and thick; spattered with blood that ran freely downward; all the way down his spine, and quickly creeping its way even further. Fresh wounds decorated his back, too bloody to see the definite V shape of where his wings had once been founded. Blood openly shed around him. On his white robes, even his laced sandals. He began to heave and cough, red staining his face as well as dripping into the water puddle he kneeled over. However the droplet's of blood didn't even disturb the surface of the water. His now useless wings' white pure feathers were burning into ash and blood right before his eyes. It was turning black as the edges of his vision were at that moment.

Before he faded into unconsciousness, he felt a sharp jab at his back, and a large splash of water.

"Goodbye, Angel of Britannia. You are no more."

* * *

><p>Air.<p>

It was all around him.

Forcing it around and giving motion to everything.

It slapped his fair colored face more than he ever felt it would. It was as if there was a raging storm going on around him. Hitting him, slapping him, as if it was angry at him, but there was no such thing. Although it looked like it very well could be. However he didn't know that, he had his eyes closed peacefully and was just coming out of the black recesses of his mind.

Why was this happening? Better yet, How?

The last thing he remembered was his usual surroundings: The white clouds, the warm light; his brethren.

Alfred nearly dying. The trial. Father and Vash with the sword. Toris's pity towards him. Emil's neglecting actions. His bloodied and burning wings detached on the ground. The ever undisturbed puddle of water.

He wished he was like that puddle, never to be disturbed, always to remain a constant. Never turning murky, and disgusting; never to turn sinful, filthy, or all the other things that Arthur was.

He still felt the air lashing out at him from all directions. The strong sound of it whipping past his ears, tossing his blonde locks about in a frenzied manner. Why was it so windy? He managed to open his eyes just in time to squint again and close them because blood had found its way up to his face.

How had that happened? Oh, right, the coughing, and his wounds. He opened his eyes again and took in his surroundings.

He was falling in mid air, amidst a sea of dark menacing blue. The clouds that used to cushion his feet were now high above him and about him, mocking him.

_'Now who is above who, you wretched piece of filth? You do not deserve to stand upon us anymore.' _

He supposed that is what they would be saying to him, if they could say anything at all. The weight of sin and fault was probably too heavy for the clouds to support. He wanted to apologize for how long they had been made to keep him up above them in the Heavens. Because he had to admit, he was in that state for a while before the trial happened.

He continued falling at a break-neck speed. Why was he falling anyway? He had been thrown out of Heaven yes, but was it literal? Was he just thrown out into the sky?

The sky. He glanced around and saw a formation of clouds off in the distance as he continued to fall below it. It was dark, heavy, and unhappy. Did he make them this way? Before long, he felt the pitter patter of water hit his skin in various spots at once. Were they tears? Were the clouds weeping? Did they feel pity for him? He felt tears forming in his own eyes, and quickly zip past him, flowing above him like the still wet blood riding up his legs(or was it down?) to his heels.

He was still falling...how long had it been now? He would imagine a long time. Was he supposed to fall like this forever? Fall forever out of eternity? Fall forever into sin? Or was he going to land? The next question was: where would he land, if he landed at all?

Hell?

Or somewhere else? Perhaps a place he didn't know about?

Maybe...he would fall to Earth?

No, even Earth was too good of a place. It was not for a failure of his race to go. He did not deserve to roam the Earth. The Earth was for humans, for those like Alfred. He didn't even deserve to look upon it, but he had; in far too many instances. He didn't deserve the privilege of even setting foot on the Earth's crust.

He didn't deserve to even know who Alfred was.

Alfred. Arthur wondered if Alfred felt different now. Did he still have those feelings of being watched? He doubted that. It was no coincidence that he felt that way; it had to be him sensing that Arthur was watching over him. There wasn't much else of an alternative reason.

That brought another thought. _'What is with all the thinking?' _Arthur wondered when he had gotten too whiny and questionable.

What if Alfred in truth detested the feeling? Maybe he had lied to his friends? Had lied to Arthur? No, No. Alfred did not know he existed, and he never would. He and Arthur would never meet, they were meant to live in different planes of existence. Never crossing paths, never supposed to converse, or exchange feelings, or interests. Alfred was to go on with his years that Arthur had sinned for. He had more time, and Arthur would prefer in his weakened and stained state to die if it was to give Alfred assurance of that time.

He didn't know why, but he felt happy and sad about that fact at the same time.

He was happy because Alfred would not have to be tainted by such a lowly creature such as himself. His beauty and morality would forever be pure and safe from Arthur's evil and blackened wished, from his pale and bloodied arms.

But, he was also sad because he wished for nothing more than to embrace the blonde human, to have contact with him. He wanted Alfred to know who he was. To know that it was him who had watched over him all those times in his life. He was there for him.

He wanted him to know how much he felt for him.

All throughout his thoughts Arthur became increasingly aware of the pain from the wounds carved in his back. They kept throbbing, pulsating that new unexperienced level of pain all throughout his body. It made him feel horrible, and only reminded him of how everything had betrayed him, his own brothers and sisters, his father, his feelings, and his weak feeble body.

He was so weak.

So weak.

A sudden sensation flooded his senses and he lifted his head to look to where he was falling. A place of buildings; many crowded together buildings, trees, a park, a commons, streets and paths; a society. What place was this? Where? He had all these questions. But he dismissed them all as one realization came across him.

He wouldn't survive this fall.

There was no way he would survive; he no longer had his wings. He couldn't fly.

He couldn't be saved.

Neither from this fall nor from himself.

He saw the lands below him come closer, he was nearing their surface. What would happen to him after this? Death, he guessed. Because there was no way he would survive the amount of pain he would receive from coming into a land that he did not belong too. It would reject him, just like how the Heavens had rejected him, a broken angel with a bloodied identity.

The tallest of the buildings surrounded him at his level as he came crashing to the ground. Amazingly, he had such trajectory to smash in the middle of a sidewalk, right in front of the narrow space between two buildings. One was full of humans, having fun, laughing, drinking something they would call beer. He had managed to notice that much before tumbling his way into the pavement and creating a splatter of blood on the ground, and a fresh new wound from the impact on his torso. He tumbled and rolled into the space before having his right side of his head smash into a cold, rusty metal structure against the building walls.

He dropped limply to the ground on his side, scuffing his skin against it as the motion of his body stopped. Pain radiated and wracked his entire being. He felt blood dripping from his forehead, and possibly even from around his eye. His rib cage felt jumbled, and a rib or two jabbing in the wrong direction, causing more internal pain. The wounds on his back splayed their red contents as freshly as they did in Heaven, though now the red substance trickled from the pavement and was slowly making its way out into the street where he saw people walking.

It continued to pore down on his battered body, causing his blood to spread and dilute about him. It soaked his red stained robes, and plastered his hair to his face. Arthur winced as water droplets irritated his back, and noticed his wrists were still bound by the iron cuffs. He would try and get them off, but it wouldn't matter, he would be dying soon anyway.

He would be dying a sad and pitiful death here on Earth

He didn't deserve to die in such a place. It was too good for him. He didn't even deserve to bleed out on the slippery and slightly dirtied pavement.

He stared blankly out into the streets before him. He watched the feet moving by before him, not even slowing down. He wondered if the humans could see him. For their happiness he hoped not. He would think his current state would frighten them, but whether they saw him or not the crowd that had now started to thin paid him no mind.

The light kept slipping away from his surroundings now. It was getting darker. He couldn't figure out from what. Was it just the sunlight leaving, giving up on trying to shine through the dark and weeping clouds above? Or was it death, slowly taking his sight, his soul, and ripping it away from his pained body to fling back into the tresses of nonexistence.

The darkness kept burning at the edges, growing and closing in, making his gaze and mind blurred.

_'If Alfred had died today, would he feel as horrible as this?'_

* * *

><p><strong>ANGSTY CHAPTER IS ANGSTY.<strong>

**Oh, at the time I really felt in the mood for some angst, so here you go~! DUNDUNDUN IS ARTIE DEAD?**

**Let's see...you guys hate me already? I'd love to know~ because at some point you're probably going to.**

**We'll see~ :)**


	3. From The Puddle's Perspective

**BOO!**

**Miss me?**

**...No? Just curious If Arthur is dead or not? or...what will happen? Hmm~?**

**Well.**

**THE ANSWERS BE DOWN THERE GO GO GO CHECK IT OUT NAOWWWWW.**

**Note: First scene...yeah. Hmhmhm~**

* * *

><p>Cool water suddenly began to flow out through the metal shower head protruding from the manila colored tiles that made up the bathroom walls and floor. The cool water that made constant pitter patter sounds against the hard plastic bottom of the shower was soon heated and warm. It went as it was for another minute, just water falling with light force to the bottom of the shower and flowing down to the drain at the opposite end.<p>

Then he decided it was warm enough and he stripped of his clothes. He discarded his baggy super-hero pajamas and slightly over-sized T-shirt on the floor. They were soon followed by his mismatched socks(he never cared to look if they were a pair or not, it's not like anyone cared) and his boxers.

He parted the rubber shower curtains and stepped in, tensing up slightly at the sudden hot sensation on his slightly toned skin. He wasn't a very tan person, but he didn't exactly come under the description of pale. He had olive skin that was probably due to him to always going outside for exercise. He had to keep in shape because he was on his school's football team. He went out and did things pretty often besides sports, but they didn't keep him from passing his classes with decent grades. They could be better though, he wasn't the smartest person. People told him he was often a ditz and couldn't 'read the atmosphere', whatever that meant.

Alfred let out a slight sigh of relief when he got used to the warm liquid splattering against his skin, cleaning him of any dirt or grime he had on him, and wiping his mind of any unpleasant thoughts. He loved hot showers, he could sit in the shower for hours on end (and he would, but Mattie would constantly get annoyed with him for using all the hot water if he did). It was his place to think of whatever he wanted, and plan things out for the day. This shower was no different. As he massaged his shampoo into his blonde hair he tried to think of some things to do.

It was Saturday today and Alfred had all the time in the world to do whatever he wanted. He could party, laze about, or actually get work done, but the last one seemed unlikely. On other days during the week he barely had time to even take nice showers like this in the morning. He usually got hounded by Mattie to wake up and get dressed because they had classes. He regretted letting his brother handle his class schedule, if he had done it himself he would have made sure there were no classes before 11 AM, but he had simply brushed it off. Now he had to pay for it every day of his sophomore year of college.

"Mhh...I love showers.." he slurred to himself as he let the shampoo wash off his head by the warm water. He soon repeated massaging his hair with conditioner once it was all down the drain and waited a few more minutes before letting his head back under the stream of water and grabbing the soap to clean himself with.

A few lagging moments later he turned the water off and parted the curtains again. He stepped onto the cool white tiled floor and yanked the towel from the rack on the wall behind him. He ran it gently over his limbs so he wasn't dripping everywhere and then fastened it loosely around his waist. He then rubbed the condensation from the mirror that had accumulated due to the steam in the small bathroom so he could fix up his hair before he started his day.

He grinned at his reflection when he was finished and went to his normal post-shower routine: Brushing his teeth, use the toilet, go back into his room to get changed, find his glasses. Once he had gone through the motions he headed downstairs into the kitchen of his and his brother's small home in the college town they went to. His stomach was grumbling and begging for food, and he needed to satisfy it before it became unbearable.

"Ahh, what is there..." he blurted out to the fridge before opening it and looking in. Mostly leftovers, milk, fruit, chicken...Nothing breakfast worthy to him. He quickly took out the milk carton and headed over to the small disheveled counter to grab a random box of cereal and a bowl. He began to dump the Frosted Flakes into his bowl when his eyes skimmed the front page of the news paper that had been left out on the kitchen table.

_'Ooo...a new bar in town?' _he thought to himself as he read a small paragraph about someone's thoughts about the place. It was right next to a restaurant that was owned by the same person. Alfred thought it was strange they didn't just make it all one building, but that wasn't really important. He thought the place was interesting. He put the box of cereal back on the counter and sat down, spooning cereal into his mouth and munching as he fished his cell phone out of his pocket in order to call someone.

_"Hola?"_

"Toni! Dude, did you know that there's a new bar that just opened up in town?" Alfred got right down to the point. He heard murmuring on the under end under Antonio's response.

_"Si, it sounds pretty nice huh? Lovi said that they were hiring too. Apparently the place is too low on employees for the amount of people it brings in."_ He told Alfred, who grinned.

"We so need to go tonight! Check the place out!"

_"That sounds great and all, but we can't exactly order anything. It seems like a waste. Well, for you and I anyway." _He reminded him. Alfred, Antonio, Mathias, and Mattie were still under the drinking age around here, which was 21.

"Yeah but we can still go, right? C'mon dude I wanna go!" Alfred whined. He heard Antonio sigh on the other end.

"We would need someone above the age to come wi-"Alfred heard the cell phone snatched out of his hand.

"_Oi! Alfred! I hear ya need someone 21 years old Eh? Kesesese, I have no problem going and getting drunk off my awesome ass! I am after all, awesomely __twenty one years old!__ Kesesese_!" Gilbert's raspy voice shouted through the other end in place of their Hispanic friend. Gilbert had just turned 21 a few weeks ago, and he was gloating about it still. It had become as regular as gloating about how 'awesome' he was. Gilbert used to drink even under the age, but now that he was 21 he could drink without being bothered. Unless he tried to feel someone up-

"Dude, really? Hell yeah! Me, you, Toni, Mathias...maybe drag along some other people too!" He exclaimed. He and Gilbert hadn't known each other for long, but they had become pretty close friends after both ending up sprinting down the streets towards the same mathematics building. They end up in their class on time, but sprawled over each other in the front of the room after tripping through the doors. They couldn't help but laugh, and they had been friends since then.

"_Kesese, like Feli, his strange brother, and my bruder?"_ Gilbert added. Alfred heard Antonio squirming at the mention of Feliciano and his brother, Lovino. He couldn't help but grin.

"Dude, yes! Get Luddy and Toni some action! You know?"

"_Yeah_-"

"_You two n-need to but out of others affairs of amor! Not like you two don't have your own crushes, Right? Hm, Gilbert? What about-"_

_"You shut up! I'm awesome by myself; I don't need to be in a relationship_." They went back and forth arguing for a few minutes until Antonio became the bigger man and dropped it.

"_Anyway. We'll all meet up outside the place at er...8? Something?"_ He asked. Alfred was about to nod, but remembered he was on the phone.

"Yeah dude, sound good!" He said. After a few more minutes of talking he told them he suddenly remembered he had to go out and do something so he hung up. Alfred finished off his cereal and dumped the empty bowl in the sink. He snatched his keys off the corner of the table and headed over to one of the kitchen drawers before yanking it open by the handle. He dug around in a few different colored envelopes for what he needed before finding one labeled "Withdrawal slips". He always wondered why Mattie insisted he use the slips they had at home when he was already going to the bank, which already had slips there if they needed them. He did it anyway, because he rather not hear the strange explanation from Mattie later.

After filling out the slip for withdrawal of money from their savings he chucked the pen over his shoulder and headed out the front door of the small house, almost forgetting to lock it. **Almost. **Mattie would have killed him if he forgot. Last time he did someone came in and went through their stuff. Who exactly? They never really found out, but Alfred thought they had a pretty hilarious sense of humor. They left a lava lamp on their kitchen table with a note that read.

_Here, have a lava lamp! _

_Love, _

_The Lava Lamp Genie._

Mattie was too busy looking for things that might have gotten stolen to be as amused as he was.

He walked down the very short drive way and looked over his red 1995 Dodge Ram. "Man, I love this car." He really did too. He had it since he turned 17. The car before this one was short lived, getting into a bad car accident that destroyed the whole back of the car when he was pulling onto a busy street. The person who had rear-ended him had ran a red light at 70 mph, so he had to pay for the expenses, though there wasn't any point, it was ruined beyond repair. After many months of having to walk to his job, his Uncle Sam gave him the red tank he had parked before him.

He contemplated taking his car to the bank, but waved it off. _'It's only a ten minute walk. Plus I could use the exercise.'_ he decided starting to make his way to the side walk in the direction of the bank.

As he walked along the streets and sidewalks he thought about random things. He wondered if he was already guaranteed a spot in the line up next year. He had been doing really well on the team so far. Although it would be much more fair to have everyone try out again. He wondered if it was the same for Mattie and the hockey team. Alfred was the quarter back this year for football, and Mattie was captain of the hockey team. They were pretty good in both their respective sports, and whenever it didn't conflict with anything else they would always go to each other's games and cheer each other on.

Alfred smiled, he was glad to finally have Mattie back after years of being apart. They hadn't been this close since they were 7 or 8 years old, and it was tough to actually meet in person when they had to keep going through the American-Canadian border each time. He remembered when he was still young and had overheard his parents fighting. Something about jobs, and demanding...he couldn't really remember, he just remembered feeling scared. He knew at that point his parents wouldn't stay together for much longer. He had started to think it was his fault, but then he started getting that feeling. He didn't really notice as much back then, but he remembered it was similar to those feelings he would get, like someone was looking down on him. Even back then it always seemed to reassure him. Except that night was a more special time than usual. He remembered hearing someone singing to him. It was soft, but he heard it. He could never forget that song.

He began to hum the small tune as he neared the bank. Come to think of it, he hadn't had that feeling for a while; not in the past few years actually. He wondered why. It had been happening randomly throughout the years, but why would it suddenly stop for two years or so? Maybe it just wore off.

He walked in thought for another minute before that familiar feeling struck him. _'Well, that was right on queue. Haha.'_ Could whatever caused it had known what he was thinking? Nah, no one was probably causing it anyway. It was probably just his subconscious. He thought it was strange, but it was comforting so he never made a point to mention it to his mother or to John.

_"Git! Stop walking to the bank. If you do you'll get shot and die! You can't die yet..."_

He stopped in his tracks, the sudden voice startling him half to death. His face scrunched in confusion. Whose voice was that? It sounded like it had an accent. Also, what the hell was a git? He don't know what possessed him to speak out loud, he didn't even know whose it was or where it had come from, but he did it anyway.

"W-Who? What the hell...Am I hearing things?" He asked himself.

_"Run away from the bank, you dolt! You can hear me can't you?"_

"Run away?...Why?"

_"Just do it-"_

Before he could tell what had happened two guys dressed in black were running through the light crowd of people clutching brief cases. By their appearance they looked like they had just robbed the bank; they were wearing ski masks. Each had a gun with them and Alfred's blood boiled and froze over at the same time. He wanted to stop them; the heroic side of him itching to stop the bad guys, but there was that small voice telling him not to or he'd be dead. Before he could do anything the shorter of the two had shoved him into the brick wall of the restaurant he had read about in the news paper, the one with the new bar. He slid to the ground and watched in a cold sweat as the two robbers jumped into their getaway car, fired off two rounds(that thankfully didn't hit anyone), and speed off down the street with police cops soon following.

He slowly got up, still staring at the street corner where the two had made their escape. _'If I had gotten to the bank...Oh God. I-How did that...? Who?' _His brain was full of two many questions, and his gut was slightly clenched from the passing event. He decided to head straight back home, unaware of what had just happened to that unknown voice from above.

* * *

><p>"Seriously guys! It was freaking scary!" Alfred waved his arms about, trying to emphasize his point. Antonio was about to say something but Gilbert burst out laughing.<p>

"What, is the little hero scared of a few bank robbers now? Kesesesese!" He took another swig of his third beer. He wasn't exactly drunk yet, but definitely tipsy. His brother who was sitting between Gilbert and Feliciano (the bright bubbly Italian boy they had dragged along with his brother to the bar with them), spoke out of his conversation with the brunette to quiet his brother down.

"If you get this crazy on only three beers bruder, I'm going to tell them not to serve you anymore." The albino nearly choked on his beer, Alfred and Antonio laughed.

"B-But West!" Gilbert really acted like the younger sibling sometimes. The contrast between the two brothers was astounding.

"I mean it, Gil." Ludwig then turned back to his conversation with Feliciano and Kiku. As the friends had planned over the phone, they had all gone to the new bar in town, dragging a few choice friends along. Mattie couldn't come, he had some serious studying to do, but Mathias, Antonio, Gilbert, Ludwig, Feliciano, and Kiku had all managed to come, though some were forced to (Lovino).

Gilbert looked back to Alfred while Antonio was busy pestering Lovino playfully. Mathias continued the conversation. "So, you're sayin' you heard a voice, right before you got uh..".

"-shoved to the side like a _muschi_?" Gilbert finished the thought, and took another drink of his beer. Alfred knew enough about Gilbert and German to know the albino was insulting him again. He just continued after taking a sip of his coke.

"Yeah! This voice, -I think it was a guy's; I couldn't tell- just spoke to me outa nowhere! Also, you'd be shitting bricks if you were in that situation, Gil. They had guns man, don't call me a pussy."

"Aww, someone is being bitter, Whatever. Anyway, maybe it was someone around you?" Gilbert offered the idea. Alfred shook his head.

"I don't think so, sounded like it was coming from...above me. Weird I know."

"Beyond weird. Maybe our little Alfie is hearing things? Do we need to send you to the crazy house?" Mathias poked at him. Alfred laughed.

"No way! I'm too awesome and heroic to be crazy!" He jumped up on top of his chair. "Also, it's Alfred, not Alfie!" Gilbert slammed his glass on the counter top.

"Oi, there is no way you're more awesome than ME!" He jumped up on his chair as well, coming face to face with the blonde. They started having a shouting contest, claiming that they were more awesome than the other and cracking hilarious, but barely understandable inside jokes, until the bartender called Alfred out for starting it.

"Aw c'mon man! We were just joking. You're really kicking me out?"

"Get out; I'll let you back next week, Kid. You wouldn't be getting off so easy if you were drunk. Now get." The bartender went back to serving the customers at the bar. Alfred sighed half irritably, but grabbed his favorite bomber jacket off the back of his seat and headed out the door.

The cool air hit him straight in the face as soon as he stepped outside. It was raining down pretty hard. It would be alright, he had taken his car with him, he could just drive home until he needed to drive back to bring some of his friends home. He would just leave them here, but he bet Gil, and possibly Antonio(he knew about him having sangria once in a while) would be too drunk to drive, or even walk back to their dorms.

He started down the wet side walk towards where he had parked a few blocks down. He had only taken a few steps before he noticed what seemed like a small stream of blood tricking down to the sewer drain from the alley in between the bar and the restaurant. He took a few steps closer out of curiosity and took a look into the alley.

A pale, drenched man lay on his side facing Alfred. His hair was wet and clung to his skin. Blood trickled down his forehead, and the stream of blood he had seen was coming from the blood slowly flowing down the man's back and legs. His hands were handcuffed together, and he wasn't wearing much for clothing except a simple white robe like tunic. He looked like he was dressed from the distant past, from the time of the Romans. His was even wearing sandals that were strapped all the way up on his ankles.

Alfred quickly knelt in front of him and shook him by the shoulders.

"Hey...Hey! Can you hear me?" Alfred got no response. He looked into the man's half opened eyes. They were a very dull green, almost lifeless and unblinking. Like the man wasn't even looking at him. Alfred felt panic rise in his throat as he looked at all the heavy bleeding out from his back, and his blood stained clothes.

"Dude! Wake up!" He shook him harder. The only reaction he got was the man cringing, and closing his eyes from the twinge of pain Alfred had caused, but it was enough. He hoisted the man up - he was much lighter than Alfred thought - and carried him bridal style to the front door of the bar. He kicked the door open and shouted.

"K-Kiku! Help!" The short Japanese man looked over and quickly came to Alfred; checking the wounded man for a pulse and other things. Kiku was studying to be a physician, and even started an internship at a local hospital. It was actually a miracle he could even come and hang out with them tonight.

"He's lost quite a lot of blood. He needs attention. Do you know who he is?"

"N-No. I just found him lying in the alley." Alfred was nervous. "He doesn't have any ID on him at all. Not any money either." What the hell were they going to do? If they didn't act quickly he might die!

"Your home is closer. Let's take him there and I will treat him. I may need to call my older cousin Yao for help." Kiku explained. "Hurry, the more we wait the worse the situation gets Alfred-san." The blonde nodded. They made their way to his truck quickly. Kiku got into the driver's seat and started up the car. Alfred would have done it, but it would take time to place the man, who now that he noticed couldn't be much older than them at all, in the back seat. So Alfred simply held him as he sat in the passenger seat, driving hastily to his and Mattie's home.

He could feel his clothes become damp as he lay there limp in his arms. His head resting against his shoulder, and his still bound wrists lying in his own lap. How had he ended up like this? How long had he been there? Was he going to be okay? Alfred didn't doubt Kiku's ability as a medical student, but he seemed in very bad condition. His back was still bleeding as he sat there holding him. Most likely his clothes would be stained and ruined now, but he didn't seem to care. He just hoped he and Kiku would be able to save a life to night.

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><p><strong>DR. JAPAN.<strong>

**AN AMERICAN HERO.**

**Ahaaa..gotta love him. **

**NEXT TIME. ON...IHROF!**

**Dream sequence...**

**REVIEW.**

**BYE~!**


	4. Wrong Side Of The Fountain

**Now did you think I abandoned you guys?**

**NO.**

**Ah, okay. I'll be honest, falling out of the writing aspect of this site. These were all typed up a while ago...I still have ideas but I get very tired and bored with putting them into story format. God, I wish I'd have someone just type for me...**

**but that wouldn't really be fair. Meh...**

**Anyway, here's a chapter. :)**

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><p><em>The next thing Arthur remembered was a hazy and dim. Oddly enough he didn't feel any pain, or any type of illness, which he most likely would have after laying in that alley for so long.<em>

_He immediately found himself among a very organized and disciplined crowd. He tried to take in his surroundings but beyond the stern faces of his apparent peers, all he really saw was a wide open field, a cloudy sky, and muddy plains. The grass was drooping from the rain and it looked like it was still lightly drizzling down, but not as heavy as before._

_He was swept along with them all in their formation, and just now noticed his apparel had changed dramatically. His normal dress was nowhere in sight. He was in an old fashioned red coat with black cuffs at the end of his sleeves and similar black material along the buttons of the coat and their corresponding holes. He wore white pants and such underneath this coat that he could now tell was obviously from some kind of war setting. He was also wearing knee high combat boots, and had a gun strapped to his back by two white bands that made an X across his chest. He never really learned how a gun would be used, so why would he have one? It seemed pretty old fashioned it had a bayonet on the end, and it seemed complicated to load._

_He kept marching along with the rest of his unrecognized peers, too busy trying to figure out how he had gotten among them in the first place. Feeling phased he kept along with them as he searched for a familiar face, but as he did gunshots sounded around him. Bodies suddenly began to drop to the ground one by one. With every shot there was a new body torn down and visible to Arthur as it hit the ground. The dead men and those around him firing in front were all dressed as he was, with the dead varying only in slight blood stains and holes through their chests._

_Arthur panicked. Why was he among these people? Who where they? What was going on? He managed to see a force advancing towards them, as his own advanced as well. They were all in a uniform of clean pressed and fresh navy blue coats, red where black would be on his own uniform and a similar pair of white crossed straps over their chests. The distance between then was closing, and tensions were thick in the air. _

_The two forces clashed, springing into a struggle of confusion and carnage. Arthur, amidst the clash of opposing colors, began to flee. He started running in the opposite direction they had been marching from. More and more dead bodies littering the ground as he ran, red in abundance compared to blue, in more ways than one._

_He ran from the scene for what seem like ages before he finally saw something in the distance. A town of some sorts, but he didn't see any people. He kept running regardless, running through the dirt roads, past the abandoned houses and stores, not sure where exactly he was going. He couldn't get the sound of gunshots out of his head, and now he was sure there were footsteps following him, heavy in speed and hate. _

_He kept running, not even sure what he was searching for. He just knew that the buildings he passed were not enough, and that they were not the safe Haven he needed. He turned emptied street corners, sidewalks, neighborhoods, until he saw it in the distance. It was identical to the House of Judgment up in Heaven. He knew it all too well for that instance alone, and though it wasn't the most pleasant association, it was the only familiar place. _

_He treaded up the many stone stairs to the front doors, only slightly aware of the rioting sounds growing louder in the background. He flung the doors open and propelled himself inside, almost as if he was pushed by his own instinct to find safety._

_He breathed heavily as he stood hunched over, supporting his upper body by his placed arms atop his knees, now under dirtied and slightly damp clothes. He forced himself upright again, and made his was aimlessly to the end of the long hall. _

_At the end was a space elevated by a few stairs, and a flag draped down the cool gray stone wall. It was a flag of broad strips and bright stars, one that had already seen its beginning share in its young life, but still naive enough to hold hope in its cause. To stand for everything it symbolizes, to wave with pride and glory over the bloodied battle fields of its day, and for far more bloodied ones in time to come. _

_Arthur gazed at it in wonder. "Perhaps we are alike, my friend. Willing to shed blood for what is important; what's right." _

_"Don't you dare think you and that flag are alike." A familiar voice warned just before the heavy oak doors shut behind it. Arthur turned his attention to the youthful blonde walking towards him. Clean youthful blue, in sight and in dress, stride forth before him. His free and clear blonde locks lay their similar style, one always defiant in its position, much like the man before him. Always standing out, always going forth, and letting his coat tails flutter behind him as if he were a modern day war hero._

_Alfred stood there opposite Arthur in silence. As red had met blue on the battle field, blue tore through green in emotion. Alfred's eyes were blazing with a mix of emotions Arthur couldn't discern completely, but it defiantly wasn't anything pleasant. _

_"You...you have no right." The younger said. Arthur cocked his head at the statement. _

_"What?" _

_"You heard me. You had no right to do such a thing! You filthy...thing." Alfred frowned at the sight of Arthur. "You just had to distract me! Stop me from passing on and going on to Heaven! What, is my life some kind of game to you?"_

_Arthur frowned. "No, if I hadn't done anything you would have died! Cut down in your prime." Alfred twitched at the reply._

_"And what decision was it of yours? Hm? You cost me more time in this damn wretched world! It's my life, you bastard!" Alfred was angry; he yanked the musket from the holster on his back and aimed. "You did this to me! I'm not some toy for you to fawn over! I could have been at peace!"_

_Arthur tensed at the action, at Alfred's demeanor. He was hostile, hateful, and held a grudge far heavier than the wooden rifle he held tightly in his hands. What happened to the bright, happy, and eccentric blonde that Arthur had loved to watch? Was the fountain simply deceiving him?_

_"I just-"_

_"Shut up, you scum! You don't even deserve to be here. I have freedom to go when it's my damn well time. You took that from me! It's my choice, not yours!" Arthur clenched his fists. That was it._

_"You ungrateful prat! Do the feelings and intentions behind it mean nothing? Huh? I did for you! I gave you time to live out your dreams!" He shouted back. He never imagined their first conversation would be like this. Alfred grew more upset at the retort. He pressed his fingers tightly against the trigger of his gun; glaring as he aimed at Arthur._

_"You...Who would want to be loved by a sinner like you. You disgust me." _

_The smoke flowed from the end of his gun, and the ringing of the round reverberated off the walls. The pain that made his heart ache was as bad if not worse than the bullet lodged in his heart. Blood spurted out his back and sprayed the beautiful flag behind him, causing it to be stained red. The broad stripes now sullied, the bright stars now dimmed with spilt blood. Arthur began to fall, much like the dripping of his blood for the second time. _

_The first time for Alfred, this time by Alfred himself. _

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><p>Arthur's eyes snapped open, immediately coming back into consciousness the moment he had registered what had happened. He quickly sat up in bed, panic heavy in his breathing and his eyes wide with fear. Sweat moistened his forehead and the back of his neck. The adrenalin in his system soon died down from his fear and his pain came back sharply. It felt as if a knife had just been driven into his back, but it was simply the after math of something similar. His chest and ribcage were sore and hurting as well. He looked down to see his chest wrapped in gauze, and himself in unfamiliar boxers.<p>

Taking a look around, he noticed through his blurred vision that nothing was familiar at all. He was in a bedroom, lying on a bed covered with blood stained towels and wrinkled bed sheets.

He felt awful. His mind was bogged down with confusion; he couldn't understand what was going on. Alfred was aiming a gun at him only moments ago, and now he wasn't even in the same location. He felt the bullet penetrate his chest, but he felt no actual pain in that area of his body.

_'What the hell is going on...Alfred had...'_

He had tried to shoot him. He was angry, hateful at Arthur. Why, Arthur only had his best interests in mind!

_'Ungrateful brat. He...h-he...-'_

He was right.

Everything the blonde had said to him was right, no matter how hostile or out of character it seemed. He was right. It was not Arthur's decision to make and it never was. Alfred's life was his, and Arthur was no part of it, and had no right to be in it. He had no right. No right...

Arthur didn't belong here. Arthur didn't deserve to even die on Earth. He didn't deserve to even be an angel in the first place. So why the hell was he here now?

What was a horrible waste of time even existing for!

His breathing labored, and his face flushed, he sat there gripping the cool bed sheets. His heart was aching, still fresh with burning sensations of hurt, loneliness, and guilt. His hands were clammy and his head was lowered; pressure welting up inside.

Why was he alive!

He was right about all of it. The decision was not Arthur's to make. He deprived Alfred of his privileged entrance to the afterlife, put off his passing until who knew how long. He was scum, a failure, and something to be hated.

He was never one to cry, there was never anything to cry over in Heaven, but now he felt hot tears blur his sight even further, though he didn't know why it was blurred in the first place. He bit his bottom lip to keep the hot tears from flowing down his enflamed cheeks. A choked sob escaped from his throat, and he shut his eyes tight.

As Arthur struggled within his own battered skin, footsteps sounded down the hall, however he was too self-involved to care about it at the moment. Arthur began shaking; gripping his sheets even tighter making his knuckles turn white.

Something snapped in Arthur as he started into his lap, hands tense and at his sides, his back arched and his fair blonde locks tousled about his head, almost matching how messed up he felt on the inside. His stomach churned up another horrible feeling: utter disbelief.

"I'm...alive." The surprise momentarily stopped his internal emotional struggle. His self loathing was put off and replaced with the feeling in his gut.

Alive.

Arthur was still alive.

_'Why am I alive?'_

Why...

Why...

_'Why.'_

_'Why.'_

_'Why!'_

_"WHY!"_

His thoughts couldn't contain it any longer. He let it out with so much unnecessary guilt, letting his hot tears roll down his face for the first time as he shouted, more to himself than anyone else.

_"Why the bloody hell am I still alive!"_

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><p>Alfred was sitting at the kitchen table finishing up his breakfast. It was only the following morning when they had taken the blonde man in, and he still hadn't regained consciousness.<p>

When he and Kiku had arrived back at the house they had taken him straight to the spare room on the second floor. The house he and Mattie lived in was technically built for three people, but they were the only ones who lived there now. They were too lazy to change the room into anything else, so it simply stayed the _'I'm too tired I'm gonna crash here'_ room for their friends that passed by their house while doing whatever they usually did.

Kiku had raided the first aid kit and other medical supplies on hand as soon as they had barged into the house. He had also called his older cousin Yao for help, and he arrived after Kiku had begun to treat the patient's wounds. While they worked on helping him, Alfred tried to explain to his brother what was going on. It basically went like this.

_"Someone get drunk?"_

_"Nope."_

_"Someone get hurt?"_

_"Y-Yeah...Found a guy lying in the alley outside the bar."_

_"You brought home a drunken hobo, didn't you? You really need to stop doing that."_

_"Oh C'mon Mattie! Paul was a great guest, and No, I didn't bring home a hobo tonight. He was bleeding out pretty bad. He didn't have any ID so it'd be a bit difficult to admit him to the hospital. Kiku's in there now and by the looks of it...Yao just showed up to help." _

Once everything was explained to him, Mattie thought that once he was taken care of Yao and Kiku could stay over if they needed to. Kiku quietly took the offer, but Yao said he needed to get back to his place. He had left medicine and slight instructions for the brothers and his cousin before leaving.

And then that lead up to now. Alfred was the only person in the house: Mattie had left for work, while Kiku went back home earlier that morning. The mess from last night had been cleaned up; there was a lot of blood, but Yao said that the patient's wounds were all dressed, and his ribs were going to be okay as long as he took it easy. Alfred was surprised it would be that simple, he looked pretty battered, but Kiku said just to tend to his fever and let him rest, so he did just that.

Placing his bowel into the sink Alfred decided he would give Feliciano and the others an update. Even though they didn't know the man, some of them seemed worried, or at least curious. He pulled out his phone and started texting him.

_'Hey Feli.' _He rubbed his eyes, and by the time he had gotten out to the hallway he had already gotten a reply.

_'Alfred! How is the guy from last night? He looked pretty hurt.' _

_'Kiku & Yao fixed him up. Stopped bleeding out, but he has a fever now. Unconscious' _Alfred headed up the stairs. He turned a left at the top and headed to the farthest door at the end of the short hallway.

_'That's good! I hope he wakes soon. I'll tell the others!' _Alfred chuckled; you could even tell how bubbly that Italian was through texts. He began typing out his reply.

"Why the bloody hell am I still alive!"

He nearly jumped out of his shoes when he heard the blonde shout, but he pocketed his cell phone and opened the bedroom door as soon as he registered it.

He looked towards the bed and there he was, sitting up, now more animated than he had been the night before. Last night Alfred hadn't really gotten that good of a look at him, but now that he had a little time, he noticed more about him. His hair was a very light shade of blonde and sort of choppy. It was a little odd, but the style seemed to suit him. He was sure if sunlight shone upon it that it would be even more beautiful, but today was a gloomy and rainy day.

Another thing he noticed was his eyebrows were a bit large, but that just seemed to be how they were. He knew they were furrowed slightly with the man's facial expression but he couldn't see his eyes or anything. He could see that he was gritting his teeth though.

Alfred stood there beside the bed, unsure of what exactly was going on. The blonde's was breathing heavily and he was visibly shaking, clearly distraught somehow.

"Hey, dude. Are you alright?"

Arthur stopped shaking as soon as he heard the voice next to him. It didn't sound like it had last time, it was more gentle and in character, but that didn't make him feel any better. It was still Alfred's. He didn't want to, but Arthur was a gentleman, he still had manners, so he looked up.

When their eyes met Alfred breath hitched. Arthur's face was flushed and wet with tears, though very soft and fair in complexion. His eyes were a clean green color, and of course watery at the moment. What bothered Alfred the most was that he looked afraid. Afraid of him.

Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder. Being confused and scared wouldn't help his condition.

"You have a nightmare? It happens sometimes when you're real sick ya know."

He only got more confused at the question. _'Nightmare...Wait, so. That never really happened?' _He seemed to relax slightly at the thought that Alfred hadn't ever attempted to shoot him. However the words that he had said still made themselves a home in the back of his mind. They had already affected him, and he couldn't let go the fact that everything that Alfred had said in his dream was still true, no matter how fake he was in it.

Arthur stayed silent, but he showed that he had heard Alfred with a slight nod before dropping eye contact. With Arthur a little more stable with his emotions Alfred pulled up the desk chair and sat next to him.

"Um, you were pretty cut up when I found you, I brought you to my house to get you medical help, so that's why you're here. My friend Kiku and his cousin Yao patched you up." He explained. "Kiku said you have a fever from being out in the rain for so long."

Now that it was brought up Arthur did feel ill. His throat was scratchy, and he felt very warm. He also felt very dense and sore, although that had nothing to do with him being sick. Arthur put his hand to his cheek, feeling just how much heat was actually coming from him. He rested his hands in his lap and began to wring his wrists.

"Oh, you were handcuffed too when I found you in the alley...What happened to you?" Alfred asked. It was a mystery to him, what had happened to Arthur. He didn't know anything about him, while Arthur new so much about him.

Arthur shied away from Alfred, still not speaking. He felt slightly ashamed. Being in Alfred's presence seemed oddly natural and he knew it was wrong to feel that way. Alfred thought he hit a nerve.

"Uh, sorry dude, if it's too personal you don't gotta tell me. But at least tell me one thing." Arthur lifted his head up a bit, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"What's your name?"

Arthur looked back down at his hands, unsure if he should really reply or if he was even capable of doing such with his throat feeling scratchy. This was what Arthur had wanted, for Alfred to know who he was. Why was he suddenly so apprehensive in simply telling him his name?

"...Arthur-" What the hell was he supposed to say was his last name? He didn't really have one."-Kirkland."

It was hoarse and soft spoken, but Alfred heard it clearly. He smiled, now he knew what to call the man who had suddenly dropped right into his life. Arthur Kirkland.

"Alfred F. Jones." Alfred showed off his bright grin, it made Arthur smile too. It was the first time of many that the smile would be directed at him.

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><p><strong>Meheheee.. T^T <strong>

**REVIEW~? **

**Sure. Fuwah~**


	5. His Fever Boils Down

**Fuuhh, Hey, guys. I'm not dead. Although you could consider my activity on well...dead.  
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**I guess I don't have much dilligence to write and finish big stories, huh? ahaha.  
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**Anyway, yeah, Chapter 5.  
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><p>In the days following Arthur's clipped introduction he had been confined to the small bed he had awoken in. Kiku had come by the day after to help with the medication for his injuries, but other than that there was no sight of anyone else besides Alfred and Matthew. Matthew decided that even though he hadn't voiced the wish that Arthur probably wouldn't want to meet anyone of their friends who were curious about him, so he generally kept them from visiting the house.<p>

Each day after Alfred had gotten a name out of the scruffy blonde, said blonde would nearly jump out of bed when he woke up. Throughout that entire day, he would think. On the outside he seemed to be void of anything, not much motion, not much feeling, but on the inside he was still as confused and emotionally conflicted as he was when he woke up, perhaps even more so. Even a full week later when Alfred sat next to him and tried to converse with him he was too involved internally.

Alfred had sat next to the injured blonde for at least an hour in silence that day, much like the other days prior. He had attempted to get him to talk more, even if it wasn't answers to his questions, but he had fallen completely silent. He wouldn't so much as make a sound. He just seemed to have zoned out, with his hands methodically messing about themselves in his blanketed lap. Alfred eventually gave up and sat there for a while keeping an eye on him. Arthur was still afflicted by his fever while all this went on, but that didn't keep him from thinking.

Alfred turned his gaze from the window back to the man in front of him. He could tell Arthur didn't even realize he was still there, so he figured he would be alright if he left the room for a while. In fact he probably preferred it; the man seemed odd and stiff in his presence. He got up from his seat and simply told him he should rest and that he would check on his condition later, maybe bringing Kiku along too.

Arthur had managed a curt nod at his voice, not really knowing what he had said; only knowing that he was leaving the room. He just couldn't sort anything out within himself. He was jumbled and confused. He wasn't even sure if he could believe anything at the moment. He felt hollow and void; not doing anything besides thinking monotonously. Reality seemed to be slipping away from him- no, he didn't even understand the clear line between reality and whatever its opposite was. Did really even matter? He simply kept reciting to himself once simple fact; he shouldn't be on Earth.

So why did Alfred go out of his way to save him?

No, that was the one question he had come up with that could be answered. It was because Alfred was too kind and simply too noble to let someone bleed out on the streets. He had known that since the falling out of his parents' marriage(and possibly even before hand) the boy had a hero complex. He wanted to save the world, even if he had to do it one person at a time. Though it had diminished now, the drive repressed by the ways of society, Alfred still held those heroics to his character. He was always bright and willing to help even when it wasn't to his benefit at all. Arthur wondered how that part of him worked. He could never find himself doing that. He was too narrow-minded, and a little too delved in other worldly standards to ever develop those tendencies.

That was another reason why Arthur didn't belong here. It only made him angrier with himself. Why did he get to live? He was supposed to die. Yes, he was saved, for that he was grateful, but was that only by chance? Or did Father-No, Rommulus, will him to live? No, it had to be simple chance. Arthur was a fallen and tainted angel, and his place was no where pleasant.

Maybe those above thought Earth was punishment? He sure didn't think so. Earth was distorted and in places very sinful and twisted, but it was also a beautiful place once you looked past it. No matter how small and uninvolved it was in the grand scheme of things, there were always those that showed hope for the beings of this world. Arthur was sure Alfred was one of them.

He heard Alfred come back into the room along with the dark-haired Kiku, and his brother, who if Arthur remembered correctly, was named Matthew. He kept his eyes trained on his lap, not willing eye contact, and not wishing to speak yet again.

Why did he refuse to speak? Well, there were plenty of reasons. One being he felt he didn't deserve to interact with Alfred, and he was also very apprehensive. What if when they started talking Alfred didn't like him? Perhaps he would accidentally anger the blonde? He wouldn't want their relationship strained by anything(though they had no relationship to begin with). He was also so used to just being a spectator. Now that he was in this world, he was unaccustomed to being interacted with. He was a more lone soul up in the Heavens. He had friends, but again things were different in his world.

The biggest reason however was because when they tried to talk to him it was mainly questions, and Arthur had no answers.

Alfred sat back in the chair he had been in about a few hours ago(had he really been thinking for that long?). Mattie pulled up a chair as well, while Kiku came over on the opposite side of Arthur. He was adamant in not making eye contact, and began to anticipate what they were here for.

Kiku put his hand on Arthur's bandaged forehead, checking if his fever had possibly gone down. Since Arthur simply sat there this was easy to do, but information wise would still be at a standstill. However since Alfred and Mattie hadn't gotten anything. Kiku thought he would give it a shot.

"Ah, Excuse me..." The petite Japanese man tried to get his attention but Arthur wouldn't budge. He was trying to find a polite way to address him, but didn't know how to go about it. Arthur may not have given him assistance, but Alfred did.

"His name's Arthur." Alfred pointed out. Kiku looked at Arthur, who was still not paying attention(as far as they knew) and then back at his American friend.

"How do you know Alfred-san?"

"He told me last week when he woke up. Since then he hasn't really spoken though. It's all I got from him; Arthur Kirkland." Kiku nodded and turned back to Arthur.

"Arthur-san. Do you know how you got so hurt?"

Nothing. Arthur wouldn't answer anything. He knew he was being difficult, but what choice did he have? He had nothing in this world. They were probably expecting him to have answers for them. What was he supposed to tell them?

"Arthur-san please. The only way we can get this sorted out and get you back to your normal life is if you talk to us."

Arthur gripped the bed sheets, which seemed to be a habit when his emotions peaked. The constant questioning was getting to him. Wouldn't they just give up already? He had no damn answers to give! No bloody life to return to, and that was it! He had nothing. So he gave them nothing for an answer. Simple as that.

Mattie seemed to pick up on Arthur's irritation and decided to speak up.

"Ah, K-Kiku, maybe we should ask more, subtle things." He proposed. Kiku looked up to the violet eyed boy and nodded.

"Alright. Um...-"

"How old are ya Artie?" Alfred piped up. Arthur flinched slightly at the sudden loud voice, but it got him to look up at them. He still had no answer, so he looked back down at his hands coldly. Alfred frowned, but tried to keep going. "You look like you're in your early 20's. 21?..." Nothing. "22 maybe?"

Just to possibly give them something Arthur nodded at the number. He assumed that was a maturing age, but not too old. If he had told them his actual age, there was no way they would even believe him.

Alfred grinned. "Sweet! Me and my bro Mattie here are only 19. We're twins, ya know?" He was treating this situation like Arthur was just naturally quiet. Maybe he would open up if Alfred just acted himself? Treated him like a friend? It was worth a try.

"A-Ah, I'm still 18, but we're all in the same year in college." Kiku added, trying to go with Alfred's approach. It wasn't really going to do much; Arthur pretty much knew this trivial information already. They kept speaking to him but after a few minutes he unintentionally blocked them out again. Instead he focused on the sudden heat of his body, and the slight moisture on his forehead and neck, which were becoming unbearable.

He must have shown it in his face because Mattie spoke up again. "Maybe we should leave him alone guys. Let him rest and get over the fever, eh?"

Kiku and Alfred looked at him and nodded, standing up from their seats. Alfred grinned and told Arthur he'd be back later, and Kiku gave a polite goodbye to Arthur and the brothers, saying he had to go to classes. After a half an hour of sitting up right after the three had left Arthur laid back on his cool pillow and fell asleep.

However only an hour later Arthur began tossing and turning in bed, irritating his back and wounded ribcage. Try as he might, he couldn't stay asleep. His eyes creaked open as he lay on his left side, facing the wall that separated him from the bathroom.

Swimming through thoughts in his head was consuming him, and suddenly realizing this he sat up in bed again.

_'I need a distraction.'_

He had so many things to think about, but for one moment he wished to get away from it all. Not think or wonder, not question the ways things worked or why the hell he was there. He just wanted something else to occupy his time.

He knew he was in Alfred's home, so more than likely there was something to do here that wasn't out of his abilities, which he could probably do normally, but again he had slight illness(Although he would never admit to feeling sick. Why would he let others see how weak he could get?).

Looking about the room he finally took in the things around him. He had never bothered to do such a thing and strain his tired eyes before, but now since his vision was at least recovered he should know where things were.

It was a simple room, its walls painted a creamy off-white, matching the curtains on the window next to him, which showed golden sunlight flittering into the room. It was the only source of light in this room, except for the lamp in the corner and the desk lamp, but both were off at the moment. The formerly mentioned desk lamp was of course, atop a dark oak wood desk. It had other such things on it that you would expect: pencils, notebooks, library books, and a calculator. He assumed this was where one of the brother's did some kind of work; otherwise these things wouldn't be here.

Beyond those things, the bed he was currently on, and the bathroom door that lead to a pretty plain toilet and shower set-up, the rest of the things in the room with him where cardboard boxes and other storage-type things. If not that then things you would probably see stored in an attic or something. Arthur deduced that this was probably the room in place of an attic, placing things they no longer used and such in here, but things they also didn't want to throw away.

Hit with another surge of restlessness, the former angel moved the sheets off of his legs, and turned himself to the side of the bed. He looked down at the hard wood floor, almost as if he thought his legs would snap if he stood on them. Eventually his listless nerves got the better of him and he simply stood on his feet.

He immediately felt heavy and almost fell over. It's not like he had never walked before, but he felt much more pressure on his limbs than he used to up in the Heavens. He also became increasingly aware of how sore he was. Perhaps something in his body had changed when he ended up here? Was he in a corporal body now?-

He shook his head once these questions entered his mind. He got out of bed to find something to distract these questions, not discover more of them!

He shuffled his way over to the door, being careful before he got enough assurance that he could walk normally. He glanced at the door, and turned the brass doorknob, letting himself peek out into the carpeted hall. No one seemed to be present, so he quietly proceeded to wander about the house.

Heading down the stairs to the first floor he found himself in some sort of small foyer. There was a fire place and a few pictures about the walls, though not very many. There was a carpet on the floor, and a small black piano in the corner. Any normal person would have questioned as to why two twin brothers in college with not very high up jobs had managed to get a nice home such as this. However Arthur could remember the fact that their real mother had remarried a wealthy business man, so it was more than likely Alfred's step-father had either previously owned the place, or had helped them with purchasing it.

Arthur made his way around the end of the stairwell sluggishly. He still hadn't found much that he could occupy himself with, so he simply stood there looking about the room. Before long his eyes rested on the piano in the corner again. Getting a closer look, it seemed well taken care of, even though it may have not been touched in a while. Dust lightly covered the top, and even the cover for the piano keys. He made his way over and placed himself on the bench in front of it. Running his fingers along the dusty cover he lightly brushed it off of his fingers as it fluttered away.

He lifted up the cover, causing dust to lightly fly all around him. It wasn't enough to start up a coughing fit, but it did make him wince a little, not wanting to get any in his eyes. Once it died down and drifted to the other ends of the foyer Arthur ran his fingers along the cool white keys. He smiled. He was never one for his piano and musical skills, but he offered every once in a while to play with Toris when they had prayer. Someone was always playing, and it was usually Toris, but Arthur wasn't the only one Toris had offered to teach. He was very nimble with his hands, and his fingers always glided along they keys in a quaint manner.

Arthur had learned how to play decently, but he didn't have the skill that his friend had. Though with nothing else to do he conformed to the idea of playing. He placed his fingers on the keys, vaguely remembering the right places, and tested the waters. It sounded right, so from there he simply let whatever tunes he was thinking of come through on the keys.

Eventually these random melodies drifted to one in particular that he had taught himself to play. In fact, there were plenty of reasons why he liked it and wanted to adapt it to the piano, but only after he had sung it to Alfred when he was little did it gain most of its meaning.

The ringing of the notes seemed to sound through the house as his muscle memory took over for his concentration. He thought back to that time. Alfred was so little, still unaware of the pains of feelings and love. Arthur was unaware of it too back then, but they had both found out in different ways, didn't they? He let out a weary laugh at the connection.

Towards the ending of the small melody he heard the floor boards creak behind him. Although he was too engrossed with his thoughts to pay it full attention. It only became fully aware to him when he heard Alfred speak up.

"When did you learn to play?"

"Holy!-" Arthur nearly crashed through the roof at the sound of Alfred's voice. "Bloody hell! Would you not sneak up on me like that?" He snapped back at him, not taking the scare very well. Alfred put his hands up as if he were just arrested by a cop.

"Woah, Woah. No need to get snippy there Artie! I was just curious. You haven't told us anything, so..." He drifted off from there. Arthur's shoulders relaxed and he turned back to the piano in front of him.

"Sorry, you startled me is all. Um..." Why did this feel so natural? "I was taught by a friend a little while back. Yeah."

He heard Alfred come closer to the piano bench before he kept talking.

"Really? Cool. I was never good at playing instruments. I tried the saxophone, but I gave up. My brother can play a bit of the piano and clarinet though." He paused for a moment as if he had noticed something.

"You feeling better?"

"Yeah." He kept looking at the piano keys, now quiet in their normal positions. Alfred frowned, he could tell if he didn't keep him talking Arthur was going to clam up again. He scrambled for a topic.

"S-So! Artie, Do you...um...live around here?" He thought. It was a simple enough question, not too personal, maybe he'd answer.

Arthur stiffened and his jaw clenched.

"I-" _'Damn, what the hell am I supposed to say? I don't live in this world, let alone this bleeding town!' _"Where are we, exactly?"

"Hanover." Arthur gave him a blank look. "In New Hampshire! You know?"

Arthur's brow scrunched in more confusion. "You don't even know what state you're in? Dude, are you even from America?"

"I don't see how that has to do with anything. I'm sure a majority of this country doesn't know where New Hampshire is either." Arthur retorted. Alfred suddenly noticed the accent.

"Ooohh!" A light bulb clicked on. "You're from England! How could I have missed that _really _British accent? I mean, it's so British..." He ended, talking more to himself than Arthur. "Sorry 'bout that Artie!"

Arthur twitched. "It's _Arthur_ not 'Artie' Thank you. You don't hear me butchering your name, do you?" He asked. Alfred seemed to brush it off.

"Yeah yeah, if you say so." He folded his arms over his chest and grinned at Arthur. "I'm just glad you're talking to me. I thought you'd never open up."

"Oh...I guess I did belt up a bit." He tried to play it off like he didn't do it intentionally, which was just an outright lie. This was quickly becoming a theme. He would barely get through conversations with others by the seat of his pants. A slight silence passed between the two, though this time it wasn't so strained.

"Hey...do you think you could tell me if there's someone we should call to, you know, get you back home?"

Arthur blinked at the question. Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean it's not like we don't want you here! It's just..."

Alfred's voice faded out from there as it sunk in.

Home. Arthur didn't have one. He didn't have anything; no friends, no family, no job, no money, not even a dinky one man apartment to live out of. How was he supposed to survive here? He just got dropped on his ass here on Earth, and now that he survived the fall, how was he going to survive Earth itself? This was too much to push on him at once. Perhaps he did integrate into society. Where would that lead him? In some pitiful existence still struggling to understand the things around it, as it worked itself to the bone for a living? Surely he'd have to work harder than those around him. They were brought up for this! Arthur had no place, no preparation. The damn Archangels just dropped him on his sodding arse to do or die!

"W-Whoa, Hey...I didn't mean to make you cry man. Cheer up! You don't have to answer if you don't want to. You can tell me some other time!" Alfred sputtered. He had already seen the man cry twice. Although he barely knew Arthur, he hated seeing people cry. He'd comfort him, but he wouldn't possibly want such from a stranger like Alfred anyway, at least that's how Alfred thought.

Arthur's balled fists loosened as the tears streaming down his cheeks became apparent to him. He wiped furiously at them.

"S-Sorry mate, I'm a bit unstable right now. So many questions..." He managed to get out coherently. Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Questions? Like what?" He seemed worried. Arthur refused to look at him while he was making such an expression.

"Ah, many of them. Just...what I'm doing here, how I got here, all that."

This time it was Alfred who looked confused.

"You mean you don't even know?-Do you even remember where you live?"

_'What is he getting at?'_ Arthur got up from the piano bench and rubbed his head.

"Oh man...This isn't good. Hey, c'mon let's go call Kiku!" Before Arthur knew what was going on he was grabbed by Alfred and dragged into the small kitchen. It wasn't a very large kitchen, but it was practical enough. Alfred let go of Arthur's wrist and pulled the phone from the counter, starting to dial his friend. While he did that Arthur simply looked at his surroundings. There were a few unclean dishes in the kitchen, the fridge had odd pictures on them, and there was a left over pancake on the pan that was left on the now turned off stove.

"Hey, Kiku! We got a break through. Artie started talking!" Alfred seemed eccentric about that fact.

"For the second bloody time, it's Arthur, not Artie!" He frowned, but it didn't reach his eyes. He couldn't help the fact that, although Arthur was acting quiet negative and dare he say cold towards him, Alfred looked like he was hanging out with one of his friends. Maybe in time, that look on the situation would be true? _'No no...Don't go getting optimistic now Arthur.'_ He reminded himself_._

"Yeah that was him. He's British apparently. But the thing is." Alfred stopped and looked back at the slightly pouting Brit in front of him. It distracted him for a minute.

_"Alfred-san? What is it?" _Kiku called on the other end of the line.

"He- uh, he can't remember anything. He didn't even know what town he was in, or even knew what happened to him." He said. "You think its amnesia?"

"Can't remember?...I'll come by with Yao-san tomorrow, and we'll see how bad it is. I believe, by what you are saying that it is safe to assume that Arthur-san does have amnesia."

**Fun Fact for CH5: There's a 'village' in New York called Alfred, named after Alfred the Great. This town also hosts the annual Hot Dog Day Festival. Yah.**

**Chapter 6: Tredding the Waters**

After having a few more words with Kiku over the phone, he eventually had to go. His shift at the hospital was starting and he had yet to be late, he didn't want to start that now. He reassured his American friend that he and his cousin would be over tomorrow when they weren't busy, and then hung up.

Alfred placed the phone back in the charger and turned back to his house guest.

"So..." Alfred looked around the kitchen. Arthur simply stood there by the kitchen table, rubbing his arm like he was cold. Alfred's eyes landed on the stove.

"Oh hey! I just realized. You haven't eaten in a week! You want the rest of the pancakes? My bro Mattie made them. He makes awesome pancakes." Alfred began babbling. Arthur fought the urge to cut him off but he didn't feel like being to out spoken like usual just yet.

"Ah, No. I'm alright, really." Arthur answered, looking out the doorway to the foyer where they had been previously. Alfred wouldn't have it though.

"Oh c'mon. You have to eat! Don't tell me you're not even the least bit hungry." He went over to the stove.

"No really, I'm not-" His stomach betrayed him as it gave a low growl. The sensation irked the Brit and he shut up as if it had just called him a liar. He stubbornly looked away from Alfred who was grinning.

"T-That was...on purpose."

"You can make your stomach growl on purpose? Cool! Teach me!"

"Ehh...-Okay fine." Arthur gave in and took the plate of pancakes from Alfred's hands, and proceeded to pull out a chair from the not so big, kitchen table. He placed the plate down and started looking about the cabinets while Alfred watched.

"Whatchya' looking for?"

"Oh...Silver-ware." He let go of the wooden cabinet door he had just pulled open, suddenly remembering it was rude to go through another person's things, even if it was just the kitchen. "Where do you keep them?"

Alfred drew a blank. "Uh..."

"You don't know?"

"No I do! I just...uh."

"Git, never mind. I found them." Arthur muttered and shut the drawer containing what he needed; heading back to the plate of pancakes waiting for him. He stopped to ask before eating. "Aren't you going to have anything?"

Alfred seemed to be in thought, but answered his question anyway. "Nah, I'm good. Funny, it feels like morning, when we should probably be having dinner instead of pancakes." Alfred leaned on the counter top and folded his arms loosely across his chest.

Arthur simply gave a slight nod, and started eating quietly. Alfred let him eat without disturbing him; he figured he was starving so simply kept to his own thoughts.

However it didn't take long for Alfred's eyes to fixate themselves on Arthur's form sitting at the table diagonal from him. As Arthur ate, Alfred got to study him more by his mannerisms and such. Even though he was very obviously running on empty until just now, Arthur still paced himself and used his table manners, unlike Alfred, who would chow down even at the slightest inclination of proverbial space in his stomach for more food.

Drifting off in thought his eyes moved to Arthur's back. His torso was still wrapped by gauze, as well as his forehead and his right leg. Alfred's mind again drifted to how he had even gotten those injuries in the first place. Although with his apparent amnesia(if that was the case, he still wasn't sure yet), he doubted he was ever going to find out any time soon.

Alfred blinked, noticing as Arthur kept eating that the large wound about mid back was peaking above the bandages. It was bright and blistered, as if something got hacked out; a chunk of Arthur's skin or muscle was probably missing. Even though Alfred couldn't see it all, he knew it was a serious wound, and was definitely going to scar. There was no way something like that could be an accident, either.

Arthur tried to stifle a yawn as he got up from his seat to place his plate in the sink. He turned to his left and caught Alfred staring, he averted his eyes.

"What are you looking at?" Arthur felt uneasy under Alfred's attention. It had been the other way for so long; it would be hard to get used to.

"Oh, I just, was thinking, that's all. About what might have happened to you. You sure you don't remember?"

"No, it's very hazy." Arthur answered almost too quickly for his liking. It didn't sound believable, but the blonde seemed to not notice his urgency to detour from the question. Alfred yawned, and stood up straight.

"Alright then...We'll get this figured out. Don't worry, Arthur."

Arthur didn't believe that, but he nodded anyway. He followed Alfred back out into the hallway and to the stairs. He shivered and rubbed his arms, suddenly noticing he had no shirt on, or pants for that matter.

"W-Where's the bathroom?" He asked quickly. "I'd like to take a shower, if you don't mind."

Alfred laughed. "You just noticed you're half naked, didn't you?" Arthur went bright red, his jaw clenching in embarrassment. "There's one in the room you've been staying in. Go take one in there and I'll leave a change of clothes on the bed, 'kay?"

Arthur mumbled a stubborn thank you, and bolted past him and back to his room.

* * *

><p><strong>sfgdchyrtjcfhtg I'm a horrible author, but I had this lying around, so. <strong>

**Here? Yeah. Uneventful. Woops.  
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